How To Train Your Celt
by Simply Prettyful
Summary: *Competirion: read and make a new name for the story!* Morose was banished... the Vikings took her in. Hiccup is the only thing keeping her there anymore... why? She needs him. Hiccup/OC
1. Chapter 1

_**How To Train Your Viking**_

Morose rode the Breezeshooter dragon in the wind. Her Tribe had disowned her and she was lost. Her reddish-brown hair flew back in the gales and her green eyes danced, trying to focus on the skies. The dragon swooped down and her tarten cloak flowed beind her. The red mark on her hand in the shape of a flame tingled as they rode; a pleasing and reassuring feeling.

Her pale skin became paler as the cold harshness of the winds attacked her face. She leaned forward, helping her dragon to become more aerodynamic.

"Find land, Bronzewing. We'll camp for the night," she muttered into the bronze dragons ear. But she'd leaned to far and slipped from the dragons slipery scales. Screaming, she fell into a black abyss of unknown repercussions.

x-x-x-x-x

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was working... again. Who cares if Astrid had broken up with him? He did. Who cares if the island of Berk expected him to be a whole new person now he'd only had one foot? Either a hero, like Gobber the Belch, or a cripple, unlike Gobber the Belch who'd had neither a hand or a foot these days and still got on fine.

He struggled picking up the axe he was asked to lift, his fake leg slipping on the tiles. Gobber heard hm stuggle and sighed. He hobbled over and took the axe in one hand and put it on the nearest anvil.

"Go home, Hiccup. Get used to the new leg properly," he sighed, taking pity on the newly crippled boy.

"I'm fine, Gobber. I... I'm just tired. Toothless has been trying to help me but he makes too much noise," Hiccup yawned. "It isn't that big a deal but he won't go outside to eat at night."

"That's a dragon for you. Ev'n when we were enemies, I knew how random they could get," Gobber chuckled.

Outside the forge, dragons of all shapes and sizes and breeds roamed the village. Berk had never been so colourful. The dragons had taken to becoming trained for something the Berkians could use; in battle usually or just everyday things like carrying fish from the bay.

Toothless was sleeping just outside the door as Hiccup hobbled out.

The sky was a stormy grey and Hiccup sighed. "Another storm, hey, buddy?"

Toothless nuzzled his friend's hand and chirped.

"I know..."

He glanced at the sky and proceeded to the hut he called home, his father at the door, himself looking at the sky, patted Hiccup's shoulder as Hiccup passed.

"A storms a brewin'," he told his son. "Ain't seen the likes since your mother..."

"I know, Dad..." Hiccup looked up at Stoick the Vast, chieftain of the Hairy Hooligans and his own father.

x-x-x-x-x

The wind pounded against the windows as Hiccup watched the storm, the wind howling and making whistling noises at the window, unable to wreak destruction inside the house. The fire crackled behind him.

"Hiccup? I was wondering... you're of age next week an'... well, that's marrying age," Stoick informedd his son.

"I know, Dad... but I have nothing to look forward to. The girl I liked had gone and I... I just haven't found the right one yet," Hiccup explained. His father grunted in reply.

"She'll come," he nodded to the fire.

"I sure hope so," Hiccup frowned sadly at the storm.

A knock on the door made the father and son look to the door.

"Stoick!" a muffled shout that sounded like a girl invaded the air inside by the door. "Quick! You need to see this!"

Stoick shot to the door like he had no beer-gut. Astrid was outside the door, ruffled by the wind and positively hyper with either excitment or battle nerves. She probably didn't even know which.

"Quick! Down by the bay!" she pointed, jumping from one foot to another like she needed to use the bathroom.

"Hiccup, you-" Stoick turned to his son but Hiccup was already going past him.

He led them to the bay. It was certainly a strange happening. The sky above it had a bronze glow to it. A dragon-like form stayed in the sky like a wisp of smoke, ever moving. The it fell. A mass of tartan and reddish-brown hair. And it fell on Hiccup.

"Yeowch!" Hiccup roared as he was pulled downwards by the bundle.

"Hiccup? That's a girl that jus' landed on you," Stoick exclaimed.

Hiccup moved the tartan from the face of the mass an found the pale face of the girl, eyes closed and mouth slightly open.

x-x-x-x-x

Morose opened her eyes. The thatch roof above her was different from the way she expected a thatch oof to be. It had no spiral and it didn't take most the surrounding hut with it. It was straight and went facing up. The wals were stone and wood. The floor was stone. The storm had cleared up and sunshine poked through a miniscule window.

Her palm tingled. _Bronzewing_, she thought immeadiatly. Her dragon! Wheres Bronzie?

She sat up, wincing. The blanket somone'd put over her was brown fur and comfortable. She looked around. No skulls or heads? These people were either wimpy, saw crows everyday of their lives or just plain wierd. Instinct told her to stay where she was. She wore her clothes but her tarten cloak sat on a chair beside her. She gingerly swung her legs from the bed and took her cloak. She fastened it with the brooch on her dress. She saw a pale of water. She went and looked in it, quiet as a mouse.

her skin was paler and her lips more full and red. Her reddish-brown hair was tagled and she saw her bronze torc against her neck, shining like anything.

"Hello there," a voice penetrated her senses. She jumped. "Sorry."

She turned. A slender boy with brown hair that rested neatly round his head. His button nose was between his brown eyes.

"I'm Hiccup," he offered a hand.

She looked at it and cracked a smile. She laughed.

"Morose. My name's Morose Iceni," she shook his hand. "Princess of the Iceni tribe."

"P-princess?" Hiccup backed up.

"Yep. I'm a Celt," Morose's giggles subsided. "And by the looks of this place, you're a Viking?"

"Yeah," Hiccup walked into the wall, back first.

"Did you see a bronze coloured dragon at any time recently?" she asked.

"Last night before we brought you here," Stoick appeared from the steps. Morose looked at them. They were odd and fascinating to her.

"Here?" Morose asked, gesturing around her.

"The island of Berk," Hiccup told her, rubbing his back.

Morose's face paled. "The dragon killer's island?"

"Used to be," Hiccup said, head in the air proudly. "Until I made peace with them."

"We were never at war with the dragons back at my tribe," Morose boasted.

x-x-x-x-x

A day had passed since Morose had woken in the Viking tribe and she already owned a sword and sheild.

"We used to have Dragon training but then I killed the Red Death with Toothless and we had to find a new occupational hazard," Hiccup had explained. "We now have the Pirate Training Programme. It's basically bad selling, fighting and a how to pillage and plunder."

"It's harder to pillage and plunder at the same time. You either pillage..." Morose gestured with my hands to the left, "or you plunder." And then to the right.

Morose watched as Hiccup showed how he flew with his leg.

"So when I move it, it acts like a lever," Hiccup explained, showing her how the replacment tail flap thingy worked.

"Bronzewing and I are mentally linked," she muttered audibly. Hiccup stopped and looked at her. He began to laugh.

"And how do you do that? Magic?" he joked.

"I'm serious. And yeah. Sorta," Morose snapped. She brought up he hand. "This is a Dragonesic Rune. It's ancient and I have no idea how the Druids did it to our tribe but they did."

"Call your dragon then," Hiccup chalenged.

She held her hand up in the air, palm upwards and heard a screech like a hunting bird. A happy tingling and the bronze coloured dragon she'd handraised landed beside her.

"Hiccup. Bronzewing. Bronzewing. Hiccup," Morose introduced. "Oh, and the other dragon's called Toothless. Toothless, this is my dragon Bronzewing."

The Viking and his dragon stood there, mouths open in awe. Hiccup stumbled forward and inspected Bronzewing.

"Nice talons, curved wings... aerodynamic?" he asked. Morose nodded and he continued. "Bronze coloured scales... quite skiny. Guessing it's good at flying. Flat back. No saddle? Riding bareback looks like it could be easily attained. What species is she?"

"Bronzie here is a Breezeshooter. A Celtic dragon type. She likes to hunt for almost anything but fish is her favourite meal. She loves to be scratched behind the ears and she loves to take a bath. Which in fact, is not a normal dragon's favourite thing."

"And you would know that how?" Hiccup asked, head tilted in curiosty.

"I've studied all sorts of dragons. The Romans don't have them. The Greek do but they're rare and the are most common with Vikings, Celts, Picts and English. A few rarities have been discvered in Ireland, a sister Celtic country. They rely on Rune Magic more than we do. Hardly any dragons are used or bred. Mostly hunted for broths but there are never many there."

"All in all, a fine young dragon," Hiccup nodded. He held out a hand.

"Maybe he knows a little bit about dragons," I muttered to myself.

"I'm writing a book. Vikings never usually write books but... I can speak Dragonese, the-" Hiccup started.

"Language of the dragons? I know about it. One of my first words was in dragonese. My Mother's dragon wanted me to speak and nuzzled me. Her nose was on my head and my mothr was furious but I cried out. I spoke in Dragonese. It was my first word. I said Mama in the dragons language. Didn't you know they were magical? Well, I suppose not. It' rare. Sometimes, not even the dragons know they are doing it." Morose explained, fingering her hair.

"How'd you get seperated from them?" Hiccup asked.

"I... I got lost flying... over the sea... darn seagulls got in my way too much," Morose lied skillfully, because it seemed Hiccup bought it.

"Seagulls don't come to Berk anymore. The dragons eat them and we eat them... adaption," he shrugged.

x-x-x-x-x

_**A/N:**__ Hope you liked this! I love the books of the How To Train Your Dragon series. But, alas (lolage!), I only own How To Train Your Viking which was a World Book Day book that I got for 10p at a charity shop on the highstreet (good for book hunting. Never know what's there, see). I made Morose a younger, dragon riding version of Boudicca, a Iceni queen that is famous in Britain. All information on Celts attained about her is from 'The Rotten Romans' by Terry Deary. I have yet to find my 'Cutthroat Celts' book. It seems to have gone walk-abouts._

_Happy Valentines Day (even if today is the 15th) hope you had a good day (yesterday). (Personally, I hate the day. It makes me feel so lonely.)_

_Shannon_

_15 February 2011_


	2. Hey youse guys!

Hey fans! I just wanna say that I no longer write on here. However, if you like, I will finish the story of Morose and Hiccup. I'll do it on wattpad then bring it here for you people to finish reading.

Yours, CookieDrugger/Shan/The Dying Wish/Oi! Idiot! Update!


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